Flying through the air

My soul is flying through the air on the migration flight of a little bird.

There are lots of them, it's down in New Zealand.

The waves are splashing up high, and the birds have to navigate the dangerous cliffs.

I fly to follow my brother who is on another bird.

I see amba, I follow her, who is following Thomas, where she can. He is going to random weird places, and is difficult to follow.

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I've lost my driver's licence. It's on a pile of stuff to burn. Paul asks if I still need it.

I'm in a desert. There's a mad cow that is being broken in. It's pulling along a baby horse who also is being broken in. I have to keep my distance. I'm on a long tarmac strip like an airfield.

There's some herbs I've left along the way. I've been asked to pick them up.

Before it gets too late.